"Every brick I take out," cried Jack, as fresh rubbish clattered down the chimney, "brings me nearer my mother. “Very,” said Mr. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed.
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